


王爵五

by VOlympianlove



Series: 王爵 [5]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 11:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19829101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VOlympianlove/pseuds/VOlympianlove
Summary: Yixing makes the mistake of angering his brother yet again.





	王爵五

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't know what to write so I decided to do another little bit for this universe.

It was a rare thing for them to be apart. Yixing liked Yifan close, whether beside him and using him as a living chair. He liked to perch in the man’s lap, making everyone uncomfortable until his father coaxed him off.

But this day, Yixing was wandering about on his own, Yifan having woken up with a raging headache. He had pouted about it but left the man in his bed to sleep it off, pressing lazy kisses along his bare skin until he had fallen asleep.

He had stationed Luhan at the door, ordering him to tend to his pet’s every need and had gone off on his own to wander the palace.

The servants kept away from him, though their quiet whispers did not escape his ears.

People talked louder than ever now after that incident at the ball and Yixing was sure that his older brother would not bother him again for quite some time.

Oh, how wrong he was.

He was merely browsing, fingers brushing along the spines of the books he would never read in front of others.

Yixing adored books, and the smell of them always made him happy. His father had given him a small library, just to satiate him. But unknown to everyone, Yixing had read every single one of those books and his mind was sharp with knowledge that no one would ever know.

He was contemplating stealing a book or two from his father’s library when he bumped into his silver-haired brother, reading as he walked.

“Brother,” he started, surprised and silver eyes rose from the dusty pages to glare straight at him.

“Where’s your pet?” He sneered, closing his book with a snap.

“Sleeping, I think,” Yixing said airily. He fluttered his lashes, and his gaze drifted to the long lines that curved around his brother’s shoulder, visible through the thin, translucent fabric of his robes.

“What is that?” He asked innocently, reaching out a hand to touch. He was only playing dumb. The word had spread around the palace that his brother had been punished for injuring him.

His brother’s eyes darkened and he swept his book aside, taking a long stride towards him.

Yixing’s heart was hammering in his chest as he took a step away, his fists clenching at his sides.

They were surrounded by tall shelves, dense with books and Yifan was asleep in his bed, nowhere close to protect him.

“Brother?” he let his voice tremble, confused and a little fear trickling into his tone.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” his brother snarled and Yixing screamed as a wave of magic sent him flying backwards into the nearest shelf.

Books spilt all over the floor, the shelf wobbling dangerously.

He whimpered in pain, cowering as his brother towered over him, silver eyes crackling with menace.

“Gege,” he raised his hands, barely managing to feign off another slash of magic.

A hand closed around his white throat and he gasped, fingers flying up to grasp at the vengeful grip.

“Please, gege, it hurts,” he pleaded faintly. His energy signature was blowing up, practically a beacon for help and he could hear the footsteps running down the hallway.

As if he had heard them too, his brother dropped him with a snarl.

Yixing cried out when a slash of red opened up in his chest, collapsing onto his side against the shelf.

Blood was gushing from the wound as the doors to the library were flung open, his father’s frantic voice calling out for him.

  
“Yixing!”

Wind whistled in his ears as his brother slashed open the air, vanishing into nothing just as his father rounded the corner.

“Papa,” he murmured weakly, fingers curling against the cold marble of the floor, his other hand pressed against the bleeding gash.

“Oh, Yixing!” Strong arms were gathering him up, fingers pulling the fabric away from his chest to study the wound.

“Papa,” he mumbled back, whimpering as his father lifted him, burying his face into his neck. Blood was trickling between his fingers, warm and squishy as he allowed himself to be carried off, back to his chambers to be treated.


End file.
